


You Like a Pretty Boy With a Pretty Voice

by ryguy



Series: Chardenisms [3]
Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Episode: s01e02 Charlie Wants an Abortion, Established Relationship, Fluff, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Naked Cuddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:55:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26671756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryguy/pseuds/ryguy
Summary: 7:15 AM. On a Tuesday. Philadelphia, PA.
Relationships: Charlie Kelly/Dennis Reynolds
Series: Chardenisms [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1935652
Comments: 6
Kudos: 27





	You Like a Pretty Boy With a Pretty Voice

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Lovers Rock" by TV Girl. This is basically only rated 'M' because they talk about sex and maybe it's a little more erotically fueled.

Dennis is not a morning person, not by a long shot; it's another fact of life he has come to realize over the course of nearly three decades. He's groggy, irritable—more than tenfold the usual—and is in a headspace where he feels bedridden at best. His heavy body thrums with bitter envy for the people in commercials who wake on command— _those lucky bastards_. His phone is buzzing on the carpet and he loathes how the single plastic charm hits the back cover with every vibration.

Not only is Dennis not a morning person, but there are only so many things that can entice him out of bed. There's the routine, the sole cigarette waiting for him on the kitchen table, beside the china mug filled with instant coffee (courtesy of Mac). The only problem is, he's not at home. There's no watered-down coffee fragrance wafting through the air, and there's likewise no half-naked roommate ranting about politics at seven in the morning, although the latter is a plus in his book.

There is, however, a familiar pressure against his skin that he's quite fond of, from where Charlie's arm is wrapped snug around his waist. _Charlie_ , he remembers; his apartment, his pulled out sofa that the two can barely fit on, his arms and legs plaited with his own. Dennis's head is resting on his bare chest, feeling it heave with his breathing. One week into this unlabelled relationship—that he hasn't been able to wrap his head around, in all honesty—he still feels as though he is only taking up space in Charlie's bed, a dead weight under the plush duvet and over his naked body—but life seems too easy in the moment's calmness, and the uneasiness in his stomach thins out.

Dennis keeps staring at the wall. Every day, around this hour, the city gets quiet enough that he can hear his own thoughts over the sparse early traffic. Though right now, Charlie's light snoring feels more like home than the old stain on the tablecloth back at his place. It's something he never fails to notice, something that rekindles a feeling stashed away in the chambers of his heart. Not love, because love feels awfully strong on the tongue—but momentary joy, quiet like morning itself.

He squints up at Charlie, the sunrise in his eye, boldly peeking through the narrow gap beside the window frame. It's almost cliché how long it takes for Charlie to stir, to turn his head and scrunch his nose—and Dennis, he keeps staring at those unfairly long eyelashes of his as he leans in, pushing up on his forearms.

His voice has an early morning rasp to it as he speaks.

"Good morning to you, too."

Charlie flicks his hipbone. "What time is it?"

"Why does it matter?" Dennis asks, letting the lethargy seep into his tone.

"Dude, did you forget that we're meeting Mac at the" —Charlie yawns, mumbling his words— "that place, the basketball court. The one down the block."

"He can afford to wait."

"He's gonna throw a fit and you know it."

Dennis grabs his phone off the floor, flipping it open. "He won't."

Charlie hums, and Dennis feels it on his skin.

He pushes the screen up in Charlie's face. "And it's only seven, you dickhead—there's no way he's already there. He's probably wanking it to the Playgirl mag he keeps under his bed."

Charlie bats his hand away. "Why're you up so early, anyway?" 

"Woke up with a headache," Dennis explains with a shrug, "couldn't fall back asleep."

"Huh. Right." Charlie lifts the comforter with one arm, peeking underneath. "And that's your bare ass, just out in the open."

"It sure is, man." Dennis lets out a satisfied groan, snuggling closer. "I gotta admit, the sex last night was _sweet_. Like the best kind, you know?"

Charlie pinches his thigh. "You're being super annoying about it."

"I'm _not—_ " Dennis falters.

"Next time, I swear I'm gonna bite your dick off."

Dennis snorts, burying his face in Charlie's neck. "Careful, you never know what I might be into."

Charlie lightly scratches his nails up Dennis's side, tracing his ribs.

"Hey, Charlie. That tickles." He lets out a soft chuckle. "Dude, stop."

Charlie flattens his hand over his body, palm stroking back down to the dip of his waist. His fingertips caress in a way he himself wants to be caressed, because that's the only way he knows how. They share a glance as he grips Dennis tighter.

Next thing Dennis knows, he's on his back, pushed into the mattress.

Charlie is leaning in.

"Ah—" Dennis puts two fingers between their mouths, "no mouth stuff until you've washed your teeth." He tilts his head to the side. "Horrible morning breath, like, _Jesus_."

"I don't… own a toothbrush."

Dennis sighs. "Goddamnit."

"Wait, but you're saying that everything else _besides_ your mouth is like, fair game, right?"

Dennis gives a thoughtful hum. "I guess so," he whispers into the pillow.

He feels Charlie's lips on his neck more than he sees him lean down. A shiver runs through him, and a soft noise escapes from his lips. His fingers comb through Charlie's bedhead, pulling him impossibly closer. Dennis decides he likes this—whatever _this_ is.

That is until Charlie's teeth sink into his neck.

"Are you biting me right now? I told you not to leave any marks!" Dennis bites his lip. "Mac's gonna be all up in my ass about it. You know him, I know him, we both kno- _oh_. That felt—do that again, baby."

Charlie pulls back. "What happened to no pet names?"

"Nothing happened to them, I mean—only at your place." Dennis pauses. "Or maybe—maybe only now. I don't know."

He feels Charlie's beard tingle his neck as he moves in again, licking over his throat.

Dennis relaxes into a smile, head sinking into the pillow. Charlie bites into him, and he moans, a little too loud for the quiet of the room; all because he loves, and he loves too much and too volatile, like the patchy redness on his weak elbows. Maybe he just wants to be bitten like this, and never stop thinking about being eaten alive.

**Author's Note:**

>  **\+ author's notes**  
>  Thank you for reading! This one hit me like a brick wall and I had to get it out there. It's just a silly little thing before Charlie Wants an Abortion that I thought would explain why they were called out for being a couple two times—because they _were_ a couple, or something similar. Tell me what you thought in the comments! Oh, and happy October 💌
> 
> **\+ socials**   
>  [gaydennis :)](https://gaydennis.tumblr.com/)


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